


Whumptober 2019 - Clint Barton Edition

by Sarcastic-Mess (MasterOfDisaster)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Chemicals, Explosions, Fist Fights, Human shield, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, More Blood, Shaky Hands, Whump, Whumptober, gunpoint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-08 23:58:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20844188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterOfDisaster/pseuds/Sarcastic-Mess
Summary: A collection of all unrelated entries for Whumptober2019 from Tumblr written by me featuring my absolute favorite character Clint Barton and a lot of different partners.





	1. Shaky Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome. I hope you are prepared to suffer. 
> 
> [Whumptober Prompt List and Rules](https://whumptober2019.tumblr.com/post/188047381368/whumptober2019-whumptober2019-october)
> 
> Tags will be updated with each chapter, so please watch out for anything that might trigger you. I will try to tag the prompt for the chapter and then whatever needs to be tagged for that chapter after that. Featured couples will be added like that as well, because I'm writing these as they come along and I don't have most of them figured out yet.  
Also, no promises that I will be able to do all 31 prompts, but I will try. Last year was so cool but I only managed 25. 
> 
> Anyway, enough talk from me. I hope you will like this and accompany me on this journey of hurt and (usually) a happy (for now) ending.

It had started a couple of days ago and Clint had hoped it would just go away, but it hadn’t. First, it was adrenaline from the fight, but the shakes were still there after hours of sleep and breakfast. He kind of forgot about it every now and then before it happened at the most random times. 

Sitting on the couch watching a movie. Eating dinner with the team. Working out. 

When he accidentally dropped an arrow because the shaking was too powerful, he knew he had to do something about it. 

Clint was already the token human on the team. He couldn’t afford any weaknesses, so asking Bruce for an opinion was definitely out. 

The internet was his best bet. 

He quickly learned to hate the internet. 

There were so many terminal illnesses that had  _ shaking hands _ as an early symptom. One more terrifying than the next. 

After he had sufficiently scared himself for an hour straight, he quickly closed the browser and went back to avoiding the problem. If he didn’t have any debilitating illness confirmed, he didn’t have one. Period.

Then the headaches started and Clint got irritable and he tried to stay cool, but it was getting harder and harder. He got tired more often but slept less and his hands were still shaking more often than not. 

All the time he couldn’t sleep he used to train until it didn’t matter that his hands were shaking, until he still hit the targets, until his worries settled a bit. It was fine. Clint was still the archer who couldn’t miss. 

He had to be.

Two weeks after Clint had noticed the symptom for the first time… Had it been two weeks? Maybe it hadn’t been that long. Maybe it had been even longer. Wait, what was he doing?

“Clint?” 

Slowly Clint looked up at Bruce who stood next to him with a tiny frown. 

“You look tired. I know I have been involved with my research, but if something’s going on…”

“What? No. Everything’s fine. I’m fine. Why would you think something is going on?” Clint laughed and reached for the mug he must have poured himself at some point. He tried to guide it to his mouth, but he was rushing, wasn’t expecting a violent shake and it was like it happened in slow motion. His fingers slipped and the mug was falling, liquid and shards spreading over the ground with a crash. 

It was such a minor thing. They had a lot of broken things and accidents in the Tower and it hadn’t been anyone’s favorite mug, so he couldn’t explain why the sight of the dark coffee spreading over the light ground broke the carefully constructed defense Clint had built. 

Arms caught him as Clint’s legs gave way and all his worries, all his fears were released with his tears soaking into Bruce’s shirt. 

“It’s okay. I’m here. I got you.” Bruce showered Clint with reassurances while he held Clint like he was never letting go. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me or not talk, but I will still be here. I will still be by your side and love you and we will get through whatever it is. Together. I promise.” 

It took a bit for Clint to calm down enough to tell Bruce what has been happening finally and Bruce led them into Medical to run a few tests without ever letting go of Clint’s hand or complaining that his grip was too strong. 

The results came in and Clint started laughing for a good minute or two. Incredulity and relief made Clint a little bit light-headed, but maybe it could also be a result of going through what was essentially CAFFEINE WITHDRAWAL. 

Clint! Not drinking enough coffee! What has the world come to? 

Laughing Clint grabbed Bruce around the waist and whirled him around before kissing him senseless. 


	2. Explosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint/Tony.

Clint was not a genius, but he wasn’t dumb either. His report cards were filled with C’s and the occasional D with only one A. In PE. 

All his friends were super smart and even certified geniuses and in comparison, Clint really was just a dumb jock, though Clint didn’t mind too much. Especially when Tony caught Clint staring in chemistry class and smiled at him one of his real, sweet smiles he usually reserved for Clint. 

So Clint’s last brain cells decided to leave and he grabbed the wrong things from the chemical cabinet without noticing. 

It should have been a simple color change and smoke reaction, but then it started bubbling and that wasn’t what the teacher had demonstrated. 

“Get down,” Clint shouted and most people instinctively reacted to his authoritative tone, but Tony didn’t. Curiosity or no self-preservation didn’t matter. 

Clint vaulted over the table and nearly tackled Tony to the ground when there was a loud noise and he was thrown forward. He hit the ground and a table, pain radiating over his back, his front and his head, scrambling his thoughts. 

Was there a high pitched sound or were his ears ringing? 

He needed to move. He needed to get up and make sure Tony was okay, make sure everyone else in the room was okay, but his body wouldn’t obey him, wouldn’t overcome the pain. 

Something touched his face. It was cool and soothing and Clint closed his eyes to enjoy it fully, but the touch turned firmer and Clint realized it was hands and fingers brushing his cheeks and temples. 

The ringing slowly subsided and he opened his eyes again to see the AC/DC t-shirt Tony had worn earlier directly in front of him. 

“...okay. Come on, it’s fine. You’re an idiot for jumping in front of it, but I’m not mad. You could have been fine if you just ducked underneath a table, but no. No, you had to use your athleticism to be a hero and it’s so stupid, but I’ll pretend that it’s hot if you’ll just be fine.” 

“Liar,” Clint croaked, trying to tilt his head up, but he flinched away from the motion due to a searing pain at the back of the neck. “What’s going on?” He wasn’t going to panic. Not yet. Tony didn’t sound too worried, so it couldn’t be too bad. Clint still felt all of his limbs. It was just pain. 

"It looks like you got some burns on your back because you threw yourself at me. It's fine though. 911 has been called and the hospital will fix you right up. Nothing to worry about. And then we have that date watching the Olympics you’ve been talking about.” 

“Fuck. If you agree to that, it must be pretty bad.” 

“You scared the shit out of me.” Tony’s hands tightening on Clint’s head and loosened quickly when Clint winced. “You didn’t move for a long time.” 

“I’m sorry.” Clint forced himself to move his arm so he could grab Tony’s hand tightly. “I could only think of getting you out of the way.” 

Tony exhaled harshly. “Well, it’s going to be fine. I’m going to get you the best care and you won’t have to worry about a thing.” 

Smiling Clint closed his eyes again but didn’t stop squeezing Tony’s hand to show him that he was still awake. “With you by my side, I will never worry about a thing.” 

“Good, because I will never leave.” 

Maybe it was too early to declare such a thing as they were both still teenagers, but for Clint, he already knew Tony was  _ it  _ for him. 

And he would never regret it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [here on Tumblr](https://sarcasticmesswriting.tumblr.com/) for excerpts into fanfiction I'm writing.  



	3. Fist Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint/Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of comfort and the whump is mild. I hope to get a bit darker, but I am not in the right mindset yet.

The metal chain fence rattled when Clint’s chest hit it. His fingers curled around the links and he pulled himself up to his feet. Spitting a bit of blood at the ground he made eye contact with Steve who had his arms crossed and looking at Clint disapprovingly. Clint winked at him with a wide grin and turned back to his opponent. 

With blood over his face and bare chest and with how much he had been thrown around, it might have looked like he was losing, but he definitely was right where he wanted to be. 

Clint ducked under one punch but was too slow to dodge the next one. 

The pain was the last thing he was aware of as he crumbled to the ground and everything went black. 

“Fuck,” Clint swore as he blinked into the harsh fluorescent, tasting blood. 

“You’re an idiot.” Steve frowned down at him. He looked like he was in the middle of packing up his trusty, ever-present first aid kit. “How often do I have to tell you to stop this nonsense?” 

Clint rolled his eyes and touched his cheek to see if what he felt there was a bandaid. It was and there was also bandaged around his hands, hiding the no doubt bruised knuckles from view. “I had him by the ropes.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve closed the lid of the kit and then cupped the less injured side of Clint’s face. “You have a concussion and a couple of fingers are broken. You’re making me worry too much.” 

Clint turned his head to kiss Steve’s palm. “But I love how you take care of me.”

“I’m not going to stop. Even if you let your brain be beat out of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [here on Tumblr](https://sarcasticmesswriting.tumblr.com/) for excerpts into fanfiction I'm writing.  



	4. Human Shield/Gunpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint/Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Decided to put Prompt 4 and 5 into one chapter, because I don't think I would have otherwise made it and it fit so nicely.   
It is very late in my timezone, so there might be mistakes, but my writing program is not telling me any, so I think we're good. I just really wanted to finish this, before I went to sleep even though I have work tomorrow morning, but oh well. 
> 
> Thank you everybody, for sticking with me during this and maybe even afterward. It really means a lot and seeing names repeat is warming my heart.

Today was supposed to be his day off. After being out in the streets for over a year without taking any time for himself, he decided it would be fine for once. 

He should have expected trouble to find him. 

The mall was filled with people having a good time with friends or a significant other. All ages were represented and Clint was just ambling along the walkway on the second floor, enjoying the view when he heard the first scream and glass shatter above him. 

As he looked up a huge blurry object hurled past him and down into the center court, sending people scattering in all directions. 

A huge sigh left Clint when he recognized Captain America. He did not want to get involved with that, but the panicked civilians were tripping over forgotten stuff or each other and Clint couldn’t let anyone get hurt if he could do anything. Though he didn’t want to encounter Cap or whoever he was fighting, especially if that person could throw Cap around like it was nothing.

Five minutes later there were sirens outside and the mall was half destroyed. The good news was that most of the people seemed to have made it outside. The bad news was that Clint was already bleeding from his arm and though it hurt like a bitch it wasn’t too bad. 

Then out of nowhere, Cap’s shield flew past Clint making him stumble sideways just as a hand grabbed Clint’s injured arm. Off-balance and in sudden pain, he couldn’t do anything against being turned around and having a knife put at his throat. 

Cap was in front of Clint, hands outstretched in a placating gesture, jaw tight with worry and uniform dirty. And because Clint wasn’t in his Hawkeye gear Cap had no idea that it didn’t matter if Clint got hurt. 

“You don’t have to do this,” Cap started trying to get closer, but the knife pressed more firmly against Clint’s skin and Cap stopped moving again. “There is already chaos and destruction everywhere. There is no need for this.” 

Of course, the same moment Cap finished the sentence the big entrance doors burst open and an army of SWAT entered and fanned out, rifles at the ready. They looked so eager to just riddle Clint with bullets. Fuck.

Cap spread his arms to the side. “Don’t shoot.” 

_ Yeah, that's a great idea.  _ Clint winced as the hand tightened on his arm to drag him a bit backward. That hurt. 

“Oh, dear Captain,” a smooth voice purred into Clint’s ear and Clint would have closed his eyes at the sheer luck Clint was having if not for the many guns pointing at his face. “I  _ do  _ so love chaos and destruction.” 

“Let him go, Loki,” Cap ordered, but Clint heard the chuckle by his ear, felt the knife’s flat edge drag over his skin up under Clint’s chin to tilt his head up and a bit to the side. 

“Oh, he is a pretty one. I got lucky.” 

“Loki,” Cap said, the sound of guns cocking nearly overwhelming the single word. “Stand down,” he snapped over his shoulder. 

The angle Clint’s head was at forced him to either look at Loki or up at the higher floors behind Loki. And Loki looked too into this and too unworried by this whole thing, so Clint let his eyes sweep over the second floor and linger on a bed of plants. 

The familiar glint of a scope was visible through the green leaves and Clint could see a face just behind it. 

“Request for permission to shoot,” their lips read and Clint’s stomach bottomed out. There was no way they would miss at this distance and with how hated Loki was at the moment they would definitely get the order. 

Clint got his free hand behind him to grab Loki’s clothes over his stomach out of view and looked at Loki, hazel eyes curiously studying Clint’s face. Debating for ten seconds whether or not to do this, Clint looked from Loki to the sniper and back at Loki. He had to do this. 

“You need to get out, Sly.” 

Loki’s eyes widened in understanding, but Clint had taken too long. 

The sniper’s finger was on the trigger and the shot rang out, the same moment Clint twisted away from the knife and pulled Loki so that Clint was in front of him now. 

Losing his footing Clint got caught by Loki as he went down. “Fuck.” He tried to put his hands against his shoulder, hot blood making him slip off. It didn’t hurt too much yet, but Clint knew from experience that it was just a matter of time. 

The world blurred around Clint and for a moment he thought he was going to lose consciousness, but Loki’s arms tightened around him and then Loki’s high rise apartment came into focus. 

Clint was put onto the expensive sheets before he could blink. 

“You idiot,” Loki snarled, ripping off Clint’s shirt as he summoned his medical supplies. “What were you thinking?” 

“I’m ruining your sheets,” was the only thing Clint could think of. 

“Fuck the sheets!” 

Clint stared at Loki wide-eyed. “That’s the first time I heard you swear.” 

Loki’s response was to growl something unintelligible, his face fierce, but his hands gentle as he used a bit of magic to stop the bleeding and then a needle and thread to stitch the wound shut. 

The familiar, rhythmic feeling lulled Clint into a bit of a daze as his eyes fell shut halfway. 

“Naturally you had to be my hostage. Why am I surprised?” 

Clint hummed, fingers grabbing onto Loki’s coat lightly, just to feel it and have a connection. “Supposed to have a day off.” 

“Oh, I’m going to make you take off several now, darling.” Loki fixed the bandage in place and magicked his hands clean before brushing some sweaty hair away from Clint’s forehead. “Taking a bullet for me. Such a disgusting heroic act. What were you thinking?” 

“I was thinking that I couldn’t let you die. I haven’t convinced you to go on a date with me yet.” Clint grinned when Loki’s mouth opened and closed without a sound coming out. “And I owed you one from that one Doom attack.” 

Loki pulled a face and sighed. “That was supposed to be a secret.” 

“Wanda was the only other person in that fight who used magic and she was mad at me. Of course, it was you.” Clint tried to reach for Loki but winced as he forgot about the bullet wound he had literally just gotten. “You might identify as a supervillain, but you have never been one towards me. So thank you.” 

Exhaling sharply Loki lowered his head to Clint’s stomach hiding his face and making it easier for Clint to touch. “How do you not know that I burn down the world for you?” 

“Such a sweet talker.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me [here on Tumblr](https://sarcasticmesswriting.tumblr.com/) for excerpts into fanfiction I'm writing.  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me [here on Tumblr](https://sarcasticmesswriting.tumblr.com/) for excerpts into fanfiction I'm writing.  



End file.
